Teatime for Lovers
by RegencyPoet
Summary: Magic has come to Storybrooke, leaving certain repercussions in the wake of its destruction within a land very much broken. The rumored premiere Rumbelle kiss. Rumpelstiltskin/Mr. Gold x Belle


They didn't take tea until noon that day.

The world shook and trembled this morning after Rumpelstiltskin's magic flooded every niche and crevice of Storybrooke, and certain words were exchanged in a bout of madness and rage any true love could have harbored knowing their second half was imprisoned for 28 plus years. Belle had tried to bottle the hate, put a stopper on it and hide it away before it poisoned her true love's mind with an even darker darkness. But bottling darkness let alone true love was a challenging feat, and like the calm before the storm, she quelled his temper with spare whispers and pleas to travel to safer ground.

Magic had come, that Belle knew, but from prior experience magic had a nasty way of taking the good of a situation and turning it bad. Rumpelstiltskin's loathing of Regina ran at a deeper vein now, and as much as Belle wanted him to exact the revenge the queen deserved, that would be an event for a different day. Right now, Belle just wanted to be in a place she knew would be safe. She needed _comfort_.

After pleading with Rumpelstiltskin for what seemed an eternity, he agreed to bring her to his home in this strange land. They traveled in what appeared to be a carriage made out of metal, a frightening contraption of this world that steered without horses. Her fear of the steel beast lightened the mood considerably on his end, and halfway through the journey he covered her hand with his to assure her that she would be safe now that he had her again.

Belle hadn't been under his protection for nearly three decades. Despite her abduction by Regina, she had handled herself fairly well, before and after this curse wreaked havoc and destroyed their world. She didn't need to be protected. She just needed to familiarize herself in this new adventure she called her life, and Rumpelstiltskin would see to it that Belle could stand independently on her own two feet again.

But first thing's first. She hadn't eaten in two days, from what her memories could recall. Anything from gruel to stale bread sounded appetizing even now.  
The contraption Rumpelstiltskin called a "car" pulled up alongside a large, orange-pink house that reminded Belle of the sunsets she watched as a child. A vast tree line surrounded the home on all four sides as a matter of privacy, with a delicate planting of flowers across the front entrance. None of it looked like something Rumpelstiltskin would have conjured of his own volition, but Belle didn't ask any questions as he opened the "car door" on her side, tenderly taking hold of her hand while they entered through the stained glass doors.

Belle marveled at the vastness of the interior, taking note of the familiar contents sprawled in orderly disarray about the sitting room and entranceway. It wasn't as large as his Dark Castle, but it was comfortable and warm.

She found herself walking in circles around the main floor, running her hand along the edges of his material possessions as if she might find herself in these objects again. She'd changed since darkness became her life for 28 years. The hopeful optimism had gone from her eyes, the vibrant lilt in her tone falling flat with despondency. Yes, she had found Rumpelstiltskin again, and yes her heart swelled with joy and grief when their arms wound about the other and they were whole once more. But the world wasn't right. Danger was at its greatest height, and hell's fires were about to break from the ground. Nothing would be right for a long time, and it filled Belle with a sense of dread knowing that her and her love might be thrown in the middle of this imminent chaos.

He'd been dashing about the kitchen since they walked into the house, catering to his lost love like she'd been starved for years without a decent meal. Belle was never asked her sugar and milk preference for tea as her fingers smeared the dust from his artifacts. Old habits never changed, it seemed, for Rumpelstiltskin already knew it was two sugars and a splash of milk. Sometimes honey, in the summer months. But not now.

The minutes passed like hours while she meandered around the room, reacquainting the interesting with the frightening she'd remembered cleaning in the Dark Castle, until one particular object came into her line of vision… and she stopped. A small porcelain teacup rimmed with gold and painted blue in short, light strokes sat perched at the edge of an end table closest to the kitchen. Its widened chip was distinguishable against the dark-wooded backdrop it rested in front of.

Rumpelstiltskin took Belle's silence as trouble, and he crossed the threshold between the kitchen and sitting room to find her staring, transfixed at the teacup, _their_cup.

"You… you kept it," Belle whispered. "This entire time?" Her eyes moved from the chip to his face, finding his eyes wandering to hers with a questionable, tentative gaze.

"I did," he replied uneasily, not knowing how to take her startled reaction.

Belle reached out and brushed her fingertips along the damaged edge, Rumpelstiltskin's hand meeting her at the end. Her heart pounded in her throat, and she tried swallowing the knot down before tears could breach the surface of her eyes. They stood there for an entire minute, letting the moment sink in that their fingers entwined in such a natural manner that they could have stayed there for a blissful eternity.

And suddenly, as if the world had signaled its end to come in that very second, Belle's back had hit the wall, her arms winding up and around Rumpelstiltskin's neck, hands in his hair, mouth pressed firmly against waiting lips. He had his hands everywhere at once, touching her face, encircling her body in a grip she'd never wished to escape from, holding her until their shadowed forms molded into a singular whole.

They hadn't been gentle in this kiss.

She'd bitten and kissed his mouth raw, and he couldn't have been a happier man in those long-spent minutes basking in their passion. His mouth never left the vicinity of her cherry lips, nipping and smothering them to the point of breathlessness. It was like being reborn from a sleep of regrets, like having life breathed into one's lungs again, like filling an endless void of chill until love's heat melted the final frosts of despair.

Rumpelstiltskin and Belle never pulled away, and all that could be heard in the room filled with glorious light and a chipped teacup was the heavy breathing of lovers-to-be—temporarily unbreakable in a world very broken.


End file.
